


A Room of Our Own

by rxn



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: 5+1 Things, F/M, Fluff, How Do I Tag, I Don't Even Know, One Shot, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Rey Needs A Hug, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-05-07 19:34:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14677965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rxn/pseuds/rxn
Summary: 5+1 times that Poe and Rey found themselves in a closet.





	A Room of Our Own

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, we're going to blame everything on [Draco_sollicitus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draco_sollicitus).

This was a bad idea. A very bad idea. Okay, so it may not have been at the same level as ‘destroy the majority of the fleet’ or ‘plot a mutiny’, but it was still up there. He was supposed to be keeping his head down. He was supposed to be staying out of trouble. He was supposed to be learning how to be a calm, level headed leader who was capable of doing more than jumping into an X-wing and blowing things up. He was supposed to be doing a lot of things, but seducing the last Jedi, the single flame of hope in the galaxy, was definitely not one of those things. No, he was definitely not supposed to be pinning her back against the wall of a very cramped utility closet while they made out like teenagers.

(Well, as he made out like a teenager. There was a chance she actually _was_ one: a thought he definitely did not want to linger on.)

Rey was so eager. Whenever her lips found his, it reminded him of a starved person who’d been given food for the first time. The kisses were eager and inexperienced, still trying to feel out the best way forward, to find a balance, to find out what she liked. She’d kiss him until she had to gasp for breath, panting against his mouth but refusing to pull away from him. She would seek out the next kiss before she ever fully caught her breath and he’d let her. God, he’d let her, because it would be a filthy lie if he said he didn’t enjoy every minute of it.

This wasn’t the first time they found themselves in this particular closet, though. The first time had been very different. It had been within a few hours of landing on the planet, greeted by a small (well, small, but it still doubled their numbers) group of rebels who wanted to join the cause. They had supplies (albeit limited, but it was a start), were ready to work...and were very eager to meet the new (and last) Jedi. Word had gotten around: not just of Luke Skywalker’s heroic actions on Crait, but also of Rey - a light bright enough to bring down the First Order. Well, if it wasn’t accidentally burned out by a group of overly eager individuals.

Poe had been going through a few boxes of supplies when he’d spotted them - the group of about five who had been (very obviously) whispering (very loudly) about Rey. She tried to ignored it, tried to focus on the repairs she was working on - but he could see the way her body had tensed, the discomfort in her posture when they neared and the way she seemed to back slightly as they moved around her. There was nothing malicious in their actions - Poe knew that. They were curious, eager, excited. They had joined a rebellion and were in close proximity to the hero of Resistance. It was natural that they were curious. It was also natural, Poe realized, that a girl who grew up alone in the desert for most of her life would feel weary of large groups of excited people - people who put the weight of the galaxy on her shoulders.

By the time he had gotten to her, she was gripping a spanner so tightly that he was half-convinced she would break it in half. He’d ducked in with an excuse that the General needed to see her and lead her out of the hanger bay with his hand holding the crook of her elbow.

The closet had been the first door he’d reached and the closest space away from people.

Poe had let her arm go when he pulled her in, closing the door behind them as they stood in the dark. He didn’t feel the need to find a light; he didn’t think she’d necessarily want a light shone on this situation. He could make out her figure and hear her deep, shaky breaths.

Neither of them spoke. They stood in silence for what felt like hours before Poe stepped back, preparing to slip from the closet to allow her a few moments to herself, before she grabbed the side of his leather jacket. She said nothing, she didn’t have to, her grip said it all. Instead, he settled back against the wall and she stepped closer - not close enough to touch, just to let her arm hang loosely beneath them as she maintained her grip on the jacket. He stayed until she led the way out.

The second time he had to pull her in there, she had been attempting to fix the shattered lightsaber with no success. The frustration was radiating off of her as she monopolized one of the few workbenches the technicians had. It wasn’t until she her frustration manifested in accidentally cracking the bench that Poe intervened, practically dragging her from the table before their very curious audience became brave enough to investigate.

She had knocked over a couple boxes and smacked her hands repeatedly against the wall between frustrated sobs before he saw the outline of her figure settle. As he neared her, he noticed that her slouched shoulders shook, and her forehead rested against the wall between her flattened palms.

Again, neither of them spoke - but this time, he dared to move forward until he could lay a hand against her back. When she didn’t push him away, he found himself rubbing small circles between her shoulder blades until her body finally stilled, until the sobs were replaced by slow breaths, and her body relaxed under his touch. He waited for her to break away first.

The third time they ended up in there, it was Poe who had needed to escape. He was attempting to be a good leader, attempting to learn from those with more experience: but fuck, old habits were hard to break and the frustration of feeling absolutely helpless had been growing on him. There was no X-wing to jump into, there was no team to lead into battle, they just had to sit back and hope for the best - hope their allies could escape the First Order and find them.

He had walked straight out of the command center, into the closet and taken his frustration out on the wall. Poe hadn’t even realized someone had followed him until he had calmed down and could actually hear over the sound of his own breathing. He didn’t have to look back to know who it was.

Poe didn’t know how long they stood there - with him facing the wall, his knuckles already aching and her just staring at his back - but he eventually turned to face her. Well, at least in direction: his eyes were focused on the ground where he could barely make the outline of her legs. He flexed his fist, wincing at the pain in it, feeling blood trickling down his fingertips. He would regret the violence of his anger tomorrow. Hell, he regretted it now.

He watched the legs step closer to him in the dark. He watched her hand reach out to take his wrist, to pull his hand out towards her and turn it around so his knuckles were facing upright. Poe wasn’t sure if she could see anything, but he was sure she could feel the blood when her thumb dragged along her fingers, her hand careful to avoid brushing against his knuckles.

Not ready to look at her - how could he in this state? - he let his head fall back against the wall and his eyes closed. He could hear her moving around - hell, he could feel her with how close she was - but paid no mind to it until he felt cloth touch the back of his hand. He winced, but said nothing as she wrapped his knuckles carefully.

That time, they left together with Rey leading him with a gentle grip on his injured hand.

The fourth time, they found themselves together had been after a gathering of sorts - well, really, just a bunch of the pilots and technicians blowing off steam with a bit of alcohol that somehow managed to make it back on a supply run. Everyone was settled around the room, sharing stories of the old days, memories of home. It was in the middle of Jessica and Poe’s story about a mission they were on - well, it was Jessica’s story with Poe interjecting whenever he didn’t like how something sounded (despite being completely accurate) - that he noticed the young Jedi slip from the room quietly. His brow furrowed - something didn’t feel right - and he excused himself after a few moments to follow her. She had already disappeared from the hallway by the time he reached it. He had finally made the decision to head to her quarters to check on her when BB-8 informed him that he was going the wrong way. Huh? He looked the other direction down the hall towards the hanger - it could be that she went to work on the Falcon to blow off some steam.

Poe didn’t make it to the hanger, though. The sound of objects clattering caught his attention, drawing him back to the familiar closet. His brow furrowed as he opened the door to find the familiar form moving old equipment around. She seemed to be...organizing? But what?

“Rey?” he questioned, staying in the doorframe. He wasn’t sure how to approach the situation.

“This place is a mess.” There was something in her voice that immediately caused him to tense. She didn’t turn, didn’t look at him, just continued tossing items into one of the boxes.

“ _Rey_?” His voice was firmer this time. He wasn’t sure what he was trying to ask or what he wanted other than her to stop and actually acknowledge him. When she did, though, it felt like a kick in the chest.

When Rey turned to face him, Poe felt as though he had been kicked in the gut. The light from the hallway hit her face, illuminating her damp cheeks and the look in her eyes...he didn’t even know what to call that.

“I’m so tired of being alone.” Her voice was small. Too small for the girl he knew - the strong, powerful woman who could easily lead the Resistance to success. Poe swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly feeling dry. She looked so much younger in that moment. He was confused and the smartass in him wanted to ask why she’d left a room full of people if she was tired of being alone. Maybe it was because she hadn’t really known anyone - but Finn had been there, albeit wrapped around Rose. _That’s how you get to know people,_ Poe thought, but before he could actually articiulate that, Rey continued. “I just want to belong.”

It was then that he understood. It wasn’t about the physical presence of people. Yes, she had been around people - a group of people telling stories, sharing memories of their homes and families and adventures. It wasn’t something that a girl who had grown up alone in an AT-AT (something Poe still couldn’t wrap his brain around) could relate to.

He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t fix this. He couldn’t give her a past - he couldn’t give her the childhood she should have had or the family that should have taken care of her. So, instead, Poe slowly closed the distance between them. His eyes never left hers as he reached for her arm, his hand grabbing the crook of her elbow as he felt her tense beneath his touch. He pulled her with him as he turned until his back was against the wall, his other hand moving to her hip.

“What are you doing?” she questioned hesitantly, though she didn’t pull away from him. Even after the door closed, leaving them in the darkness they’d grown familiar with.

“Come here,” he said simply as he slid himself down the wall until he was sitting, pulling her down as she kneeled onto the ground between his legs. His arm slid around her waist and he pulled her down further, until she collapsed forward against his chest, and his arm remained firmly around her.

Her body was still tense, her hands moving to try find something firm to rest against - probably to push herself away. “What are you _doing_?” she hissed again.

“Holding you.”

He felt her pause in his arms. Her body was still tense, but she had stopped trying to get away from him. He was about to reassure her that nothing would happen, that this wasn’t some ploy to get her into bed, when Rey caught him off guard. Again.

“Oh,” she started, her voice less combative as he felt her slowly relax into his arms. “I’ve never been held before.”

Poe felt like he had been slapped in the face and his heart ached for the girl who was now settling herself into his chest. His arms tightened around her as she finally found a position she was comfortable in: her legs draped over one of his thighs, her upper body turned towards him, head fitting in against the side of his neck with one arm around his middle and the other hand resting on his chest.

“Poe?” she mumbled after a few minutes, not moving from his arms. She had relaxed, at least, and if the slowed breaths against his neck were any indication then she was probably close to sleep. “I think I like being held.”

It was then that he vowed to hold her - as long and as often as she liked.

They didn’t leave the closet that night.

The fifth time wasn’t a pleasant time. Rey, despite Poe warning her against it, had decided to try some of the ‘home brew’ that Snap had concocted. He called it ‘home brew’, Poe called it ‘back alley prison piss’, but that was neither here nor there. The point was that Rey had consumed a bit too much of it (though, to be fair, she hadn’t ever drank before so any of it was likely a bit too much of it) and when she walked into the hanger the next morning, Poe knew it wouldn’t be a good morning.

She had survived the morning briefing - just barely - and when she retreated from the hangar, Poe followed her. He followed her right into the closet, where she proceeded to drop to her knees and empty the contents of her stomach into a rusted, empty,  old container.

Poe had bitten back the urge to point out that he had _told her not to_ \- she appeared to be suffering enough. Instead, he settled next to her and rubbed her back as she whimpered her way through the throbbing headache, the nausea and the loud noises coming from the hallway.

When she had decided that there was nothing left in her stomach, Rey had slid over to him, perched herself between his legs and curled up into his chest: and Poe stuck to his word to hold her as often as she liked. Or at least until the urge to throw up returned.

They left when the smell of regurgitated home brew and dinner became too much to handle.

This last time, though? This time, they had been sparring before. They had both needed to break off some steam and somehow, they had found themselves in the training room together. A little friendly competition had never hurt anyone, right? Although he knew better than to take on a Jedi, normally, he figured that he might actually stand a chance. She was young, strong, scrappy and sloppy but he was actually trained in hand to hand combat. Enough to be able to hold his own. At least, he had been able to hold his own enough to somehow get her pinned to the wall of the training room.

That was when she had kissed him. Well, kissed may have been a bit of an exaggeration. She had pushed her mouth to his and Poe could tell by her eagerness and her lack of any further movement, that she didn’t quite know what he was doing. He was okay with that, though. He was not okay with doing this in the middle of the training room, though.

He pulled back from her and one look at her face told him everything: her insecurity about what she had done, her self consciousness and her youth were all shining through. One hand slid to the back of her head, his fingers caught against that last bun while he tilted her head up and leaned down to capture her lips in a kiss - firm, but short. Enough to calm the worry he could see on her face as his other hand grabbed hers and he led them out of the training room and into their utility closet.

Poe had walked in first, practically dragged her in behind him and turned to face her as he simultaneously kicked a box out of his way and pulled her back into him. It was dark, but he didn’t need the light. His hand cupped the back of her neck as he closed the distance between them to press his lips against hers.

In his defense, he hadn’t planned on it going further than a kiss. Then again, he hadn’t planned anything past getting them out of the training room and somewhere private. But then her hands began to wander over his chest and the little part of Poe’s brain that was actually functioning and acknowledging something other than the way her lips tasted was throwing up red flags and warnings. The biggest one being that she might not necessarily know what she’s doing, or more specifically, what she was doing to _him_.

That was how she ended up pinned against the wall. His arm had slid around her waist, turning them enough that he could walk her back two feet with ease, pressing her against the very wall that they had both taken their aggressions out on. His hands slid down along her arms, moving to rest on top of hers as they gripped and pulled at the side of his shirt. He somehow managed to unlatch her grip on his shirt, his fingers threading between hers as he brought their interlocked hands up - pinning hers against the wall on either side of her head: because if he had any hope of controlling himself, she couldn’t be doing _that_ to him.

It was Poe who had to break the kiss this time, attempting to catch his breath - a task that became increasingly more difficult when he felt her teeth capture his bottom lip. He stifled back a groan, his grip on her hands tightening as he leaned his forehead in against hers.

“Careful,” he warned, his voice soft but deeper than normal, chest still heaving as he tried to calm his breathing. His head turned to the side slightly, his nose brushing against the side of hers, eyes shutting as his lips peppered a few lazy kisses against the side of her mouth.

“I trust you,” Rey whispered against his lips, arching her back slightly from her position until her chest brushed against his. All he could do was grip her hands tighter - they were acting as his damn anchor at that particular moment.

“I wouldn’t,” Poe mumbled, his attempted joke coming out as more of a gasp before their lips met again.

This girl would likely be the death of him.


End file.
